Breathless
by Kraehi
Summary: Dean needs release. It's written all over his face as he pounds his fist into the wall in anger. He turns to Sam to let him take control. PWP, S/M, CBT, BP, Breath play, Bondage, D/s, Angst, Oneshot


**Author: Kraehi**

**Title: Breathless**

**Rating: Adult!**

**Word Count: 4775**

_**Warnings: Slash, Wincest! Body Modification (Mild), PWP, Breath Play (Mild), S/M, Bondage, CBT (Cock/Ball Torture), BP (Blood Play), Angst and Spoilers for s7e10 'Death's Door' if you look hard enough.**_

**Disclaimer: Unbeta'ed. I did not make any money off the writing of this piece of fiction. I do not own Supernatural in any fashion.**

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><p>Sam watched with concern as his brother grew closer and closer to the end of his fuse. The older Winchester was pacing rabidly in the house they currently occupied. The slew of curses weren't what concerned him the most, it was the moments where Dean snapped and started pounding his fist into the wall. In those moments, Sam had to physically wrestle his brother away from the wall and restrain him until Dean found his self control again.<p>

Dean would struggle, kick and yell profanities at his younger brother every time Sam restrained him, but accepted it. When Sam released him, the cycle would just repeat. Sam tried to ignore the blood leaking through Dean's split knuckles. He wished Dean would sit and talk to him. But he knew it would never happen, _'Unless he was forced.' _ A smile pulled at Sam's lips but he contained it quickly, not wanting to set off his brother any further. He knew that Dean was getting desperate enough again for loss of control. To let his brother take the wheel.

~oOo~

Sam pulled the beat up Camaro into the open carport of the house they currently occupied to keep it out of sight. The house was run down and abandoned, and the car matched it well. He unfolded himself from the driver's seat after having gone two cities over to get them some dinner and other provisions. He had to keep their whereabouts concealed. He even ensured that he wasn't followed. But to be safe, he and Dean would clear out in the morning light to another town. Another rundown shack of a house. All to remain off the grid. To remain hidden from the Leviathans.

Sam left everything in the back seat except their dinners and made his way through the side door. "I'm back Dean. I have dinner." He paused by the counter in the kitchen he crossed into from outside and set down the food and picked up the spray bottle filled with the cleaning product that injured Leviathans. It had become their personal safety measure. He looked up at his brother who stood in the opposite doorway with a fully loaded shotgun pointed at his head. He nodded and sprayed his exposed forearms and hands. When nothing happened he could see the tension drain from Dean's shoulders as he dropped the shotgun onto the counter opposite the one Sam stood and return to the living room.

He dropped the bottle near the door again and followed his brother and made his way to the living room. Dean hadn't said anything about the night before. Sam knew he wouldn't. What he saw when he entered gave him pause. Dean was kneeling before a crate that was made into a table by the beat up couch that was covered with one of their sleeping bags. His breath hitched, the time had finally come that Dean needed to lose all control.

He fought the urge to jump his brother right there as he stepped closer to the kneeling man. Dean sat in a full submissive pose, his knees spread and his wrists crossed behind his back with his head bowed. There on the crate was a leather collar, softened with years of use. Beside it was a small lock. Sam recalled the day he brought that home for Dean. It was a moment of pride when his older brother looked fondly at the collar and wore it proudly for his brother. Sam felt the denim of his jeans rub uncomfortably over the ridge of flesh that pressed against the zipper, but ignored it.

He slid his fingers over the worn leather in appraisal before he cupped Dean's chin and tilted his head back. Dean looked up and him with something akin to awe. Sam watched his green eyes shimmer up at him with barely contained emotion. Sam stroked his thumb over the corner of his brother's bristly chin as he looked on the man with affection. But he would not lower himself to his usual emotional self. Dean needed him to be hard and firm with him.

He reached over and lifted the collar from it's resting place and contemplated it. Walking slowly around the submissive man. Sam trailed his fingers over the shoulder of the heavy canvas jacket that his brother wore to ward off the late season chill. He stood between the spread legs from behind. Dean's head barely reached his waist. He could feel Dean shift lightly against his thighs, but not enough to warrant punishment.

Sam hooked the leather collar under Dean's chin and pulled his head back sharply. He tamped down the coil of pleasure at Dean's surprised gasp. The crown of Dean's skull rest firmly against his groin. Dean would know how hard Sam was without even being touched. But as a true submissive, he kept his mouth shut as he looked up at Sam as he towered over him. Sam licked his lips and released his chin. As the older Winchester's head fell forward, Sam fastened the collar snugly around Dean's throat.

Without being asked, Dean reached out and held up the lock for Sam. Dean was well trained. Once the sound of the lock snicked into place, it was as if a switch flipped in Dean. Sam knew once the lock was in place, he would have full obedience from Dean. It was empowering. Sam stepped away from his brother and admired the man as he remained unmoving until ordered.

"Stand." Sam leaned back against the arm of the couch as he watched his brother stand without complaint. Sam let Dean anticipate his next move for several moments as he remained silent. The only movement from the older man was a slight shift of balance from one foot to the other. Dean knew better to do more than told, there would be dire consequences if he didn't follow orders. Sam smirked and decided to tease his brother a little, "Stroke yourself, over your jeans, no sound."

He knew how hard that would be for Dean. Because Dean was the most vocal slut he'd ever met. His older brother's moans put porn stars to shame. And it always drove him wild. He could hear as Dean's breath grew ragged as the older man fought his moan and stroked himself through the thick denim of his jeans. It wasn't enough, and Sam knew he wanted to slip his hand into his jeans, but knew that he wouldn't. Sam watched from the arm of the couch as his brother's jeans drew tight.

Dean's breathing became harsh as he pushed the heel of his hand into the swollen bulge contained in his jeans. Sam rubbed himself slightly as he watched his brother work himself over. Before it got to far he ordered, "Stop. Take off your clothes. Fold them and set them on the crate." The older man shed his clothing, one layer at a time, folded each neatly and set them in a pile on the crate before him. Sam could hear the hiss he released as he carefully lowered the zipper of his jeans. Dean shivered visibly as his turgid cock met the cold air of the house, causing it to jump slightly.

Once nude, the elder dropped his hands to his sides, fought the urge to rub himself more. Sam stood and stepped up to his brother from behind, fought the shiver he felt as his brother's body heat penetrated his clothing and sank bone deep. He admired the toned structure of his brother's backside, as if he were sculpted by god himself. The younger Winchester lifted his hands and slid them teasingly up Dean's hips and flanks. Dean's breathing accelerated as the elder trembled under his feather light touches.

Sam circled Dean's ribcage and sank the edges of his nails into the flesh over his ribs and dragged them up and around to his pecs where he twisted the budded nipples harshly. Dean flinched beneath his touch and elicited a hiss, but otherwise remained silent to his brother's machinations. Sam lowered his head into the tender flesh of Dean's neck and drew a deep breath, took in his brother's masculine scent. Sam had to admit that he missed having his brother so submissive to him like this. The last time they had done this was shortly after Cas left them. Dean was tail-spinning, but he tried to hide it. And Sam knew better.

The elder man let out a soft whimper, and Sam growled, "You know better than that." The younger sank his teeth viciously into the junction of the neck and shoulder, causing Dean to bow his back away from Sam. The younger man could taste the tang of Dean's blood over his tongue and gave a feral smile. His blood tasted far better than any Demon's. Sam could feel Dean's body tense against him as the man fought to remain passive, defense being second nature to the man. Sam knew the bite mark would purple, and would let anyone know, including Dean himself, that he belonged to Sam.

Despite the pain, Sam knew that his brother was a masochist and the pain only furthered his pleasure. He sunk his hand into the pocket of his jeans and drew out a leather cock ring. As Sam lapped at the wound, he wrapped the cock ring around his brother's genitals and fastened them into place tightly. The younger Winchester would decide when Dean could come. He slid his fingers up Dean's length, and felt it twitch in his grasp. He smiled and pulled gently on the thick steel ring threaded through the head of his cock. Getting the Prince Albert was Dean's idea. Dean's breath hitched as Sam flicked the ring.

~oOo~

Without a word, Sam stepped away from his brother, leaving him to sway gently. Dean wanted to moan out so desperately. But the excitement of not knowing what Sam was doing overruled it. Dean tried to steady his breathing and his pounding heart as he remained still in wait for his brother to return. He heard the door open, followed by the trunk of the shitty Camaro they presently owned. The hairs on his nape stood on end, but he didn't want to upset Sam. Disobeying now would surely earn him an ass beating. He could hear the door as it closed and the heavy steps of his brother as he neared. He could hear something jingling. Metal rings and chains if he had to guess.

He felt his brother step closer and lower something over his eyes. The blindfold. Dean fought a shiver as Sam fastened it around his head and stepped away again. He wasn't gone long as Dean felt something familiar dragged up the outside of his left arm teasingly. Sam tapped his left wrist. It was a silent command to hold out his left arm. The leather wrapped securely around his wrist. Sam left his wrist alone, which meant he was to keep it held aloft and Dean felt a tap at his right. He repeated the action as a second cuff was secured.

What threw Dean off balance was the upper arm cuffs that were secured. Sam meant to bind his arms back, which would affect his ability to breath slightly. Sam took hold of his arms and twisted them back. He crossed Dean's arms forcefully behind his back and secured both wrists to the opposite arm cuffs with a pair of double-ended panic release clasps. He felt his brother's hands massage the tense muscles in his arms and shoulders, moving gradually to his chest to help alleviate some of the pressure. Dean knew if Sam was securing him in such a manner, then he really didn't want him to fight.

Without warning, he felt Sam pull him back into his chest as a palm fastened firmly over his mouth and pinched his nostrils closed with is thumb. Arousal spiked through his body as his brother began the trying and if done improperly, dangerous game of breath play. Sam literally took away Dean's ability to breath. Dean felt the adrenaline began to pour into his blood stream, along with dopamine and endorphins. Suddenly his fight or flight kicked in as his body fought for air. Sam pulled him in firmly to his body, preventing Dean from breaking the hold as the smaller man began to struggle. His body bowed away as he twisted in Sam's arms instinctively trying to shake off the hold as everything seemed to fade.

Along with the adrenaline flooding his body, so did the irrational terror that Sam wouldn't let go. But logic told him Sam would. They had done this before only once. Dean's struggles grew clumsy as his strength began to leave him. Sam whispered roughly in his ear, "You're going down, De." And as if his words were a trigger, Dean's knees buckled. Sam took his brother's weight and guided him slowly down to the floor. Halfway down Sam released his mouth and nose, allowing the older hunter to draw in huge gulps of air. It felt like his nerve endings were lit on fire as his body re-awakened.

Sam lowered to his knees and allowed Dean to drop farther as he panted heavily for air. Sam cradled Dean's head as the older man recovered, as he basked in the euphoric rush of endorphins that flooded his system, the second he started breathing again, granted him. His face felt flushed and his hard breathing slowed as he recovered. He could feel the blood pumping through his body savagely, filling his cock further. It throbbed almost painfully between his thighs.

Sam stroked his dark blonde hair gently as he murmured gently to him. The younger Winchester's fingers danced down his brother's left side to the line of Adonis at his hips. He felt those fingers tease the little trail of hair that usually disappeared beneath his belt as he lowered over his older brother and slid his hot tongue up his throbbing pulse. "You should see yourself, De. You look like a needy little slut, so helpless and wanting. Your face is flushed so prettily. Do you have something to say?"

That was the cue that gave Dean permission to be vocal, "Please, I need..." His tongue failed him.

"You need what? Speak."

Dean's breath spiked when Sam's fingers closed around his hard length. He moaned loudly, his back bowing against his restraints. "P-Please, Sir..."

This seemed to annoy Sam some. He slapped Dean's cock against his lower belly firmly causing the older man to belt out an alarmed yell, "Please Sir, what? Answer me slut or I will bend you over my knee and redden that luscious ass of yours."

Dean couldn't help but whimper, knowing Sam would do it too. But apparently he took too long to reply because the next moment, he felt his brother pinch the skin on the underside of his hard cock and set several, tightly gripping clamps. Where he pulled them from he didn't know. But he knew how painful this was going to get. "Please Sir!" Dean whimpered. It was as if he couldn't get his traitorous tongue to cooperate and give Sam a straight answer.

Sam closed his teeth over the rise of Dean's shoulder for his lack of cooperation and savagely ripped off one of the clamps. Dean screamed in surprise and pain, his cock throbbed harder. Dean trembled as his lust grew, heat filled deeply in his groin. He tensed when he heard the telltale sound of a chain emerge. Sam clamped an end on the Captive bead Ring threaded through his cock. The chain had three leads, one was fastened to the ring on his collar. The other two were clamped tightly around his nipples. This forced Dean to remain bowed forward.

Sam rolled his brother onto his knees and pressed his forehead to the floor. It seemed his brother was not done with him just yet. A thrill shot down his spine as a set of chains connected to the cuffs at his wrists, forcing his shoulders back even farther. Dean couldn't tell where they were secured, but he knew he was now immobile. Dean felt his brother move away, unsure of what was to come, causing his anxiety and tension to grow. Sam's presence was felt a moment later as he fastened clothes pins in the loose flesh of his testicles. Dean shivered when the soft crack of a single tailed whip echoed in the empty space. "Please Sir, no!" He pleaded. He loved the sharp pain of the whip on his flesh, and Sam had developed killer aim with the whip, but Dean knew what was coming next and he was sure that it would not be pleasant.

Sam's footfalls seemed to pace around his rear end. Then crack! The whip snapped across the rise of his rounded rear. Dean jerked in surprise, causing both the nipple clamps and his Prince Albert to pull. He hissed out a moan at the burning sting. The whip cracked again, and again and again. A handful more times the whip snapped across his stinging ass before the last snapped off one of the clothespins. Dean screamed then, tears burning in his eyes.

"What's that slut? Have something to say?" Dean bit his tongue and another handful of snaps fell across his exposed ass. The chains attached to his wrists jingled as he jerked uncontrollably, mewling out whimpers.

~oOo~

Another clothespin came free, followed by a pained moan from the older man. "Still nothing to say, slut?" Dean remained silent. "Very well then. Maybe this will get you to talk?" Sam stepped forward and toed his brother's legs apart, exposing the remaining two clamps still firmly attached to Dean's shaft. Before he turned away, he stroked a palm over Dean's welt ridden ass cheeks, pausing to squeeze one firmly before slapping it. Dean yelped and whimpered.

Sam returned to his former place and wound the whip, weaving it gracefully around him and bringing it down on his older brother's ass once again with near silent cracks. He watched with lust as Dean's muscles rippled beneath his flesh as each crack was received. The chains seemed to make a chorus to heighten his experience as he dominated his brother. Then with a careful aim, he snapped off one of the rubber tipped metal clamps from the frenum of Dean's cock just above the Prince Albert piercing.

The scream that came from his brother gave the younger Winchester pause. He watched as Dean's entire body trembled. He could see his brother's ribs heave as his brother cried from the pain. Sam gave him a moment before he approached, "Still nothing to say?" His voice was low and commanding. Dean's head shook to the negative. Sam's brows rose in surprise. He wanted more. Sam was humbled with the trust that Dean gave him concerning Sam's skills with the whip. Sam reached up and touched Dean's fingers, checking the circulation.

Satisfied that he could continue with Dean's arms in their place, he returned to his. He raised the whip again, curling it around him as if weaving a spell and began a ladder of stripes up Dean's thighs. Dean yelped but remained still. After having left a long stream of lines, with Dean's voice practically singing, he snapped at the last clamp that gripped the skin firmly in the middle of Dean's still hard cock. The metal clamp snapped free and clattered to the floor at Sam's feet. Dean screamed a final time, finally taking the chance to plead, "Please no more Sir! I need you Sir, Please!"

Sam dropped the whip to the couch and knelt down behind his brother, sliding his palms soothing over the unmarked portion of Dean's thighs, wanting him to feel the sting a little longer. He reached up and loosened the chains on his wrists, allowing them to drop to a more comfortable position. "Good boy, De. That's my good boy," he soothed as he massaged the tense muscles of Dean's arm's and shoulders. Sam planted small kisses at the base of Dean's spine, reaching around to release the nipple clamps and the Prince Albert ring. Dean relaxed slightly once free and Sam massaged and kissed the angry red welts on his ass.

Sam pulled out the tube from his pocket and poured a little of the lubricant over his fingers, not finished with the scene. Dean was near breaking and Sam knew what would finish the job, letting him shoulder some of Dean's weight for a while. Sam licked his lips and dropped behind Dean's spread thighs and slid his tongue over the velvety smooth sac as his slick fingers slipped down the older man's crack to massage around the tight ring of his asshole. Dean moaned low in his throat as he rode the post whipping endorphin high, heightening his arousal farther than before.

Sam suckled one of Dean's testicles as he pressed a finger into his brother's tight channel to the knuckle om his fist. The older Winchester wriggled at the pressure as Sam massaged his inner walls, slipping a second finger in tandem while he probed. He scissored his fingers as he loosened the muscle, stretching his brother slowly. One of his long digits pressed against the sensitive prostate, eliciting a pleading mewl, his voice wrecked and high, from Dean, "Please Sir, I need you... I want you to fuck me..."

Sam smiled and withdrew, closing a large palm around Dean's upper arm and pulled him upright, and freed his brother of the blindfold. He turned his brother and met the lust blown pupils of so green eyes. Dean stared up at Sam hungrily as he stood and practically ripped his shirt away in his haste to shed his clothing. Sam popped the button and fly of his jeans and didn't even have the chance to push them down before Dean crashed his mouth over Sam's lower belly and groin.

Dean bit, kissed and licked Sam's flesh before he leaned forward and took a mouthful of Sam's jean's and pulled them down with his teeth. Sam grinned lecherously, "Such a needy little slut. Hungry for my cock aren't you? Look how hot you are pulling down my pants with that hungry mouth." Sam gripped his cock and gave it a few firm strokes as Dean straightened up again, his eyes rest only at the hard dick in his hand.

Sam tapped his cock against his brother's cheek, a silent order to open up. The row of frenum piercings and the Prince Albert barbell sting his cheek only lightly. Dean did so without complaint and took the cock deeply into his hot mouth greedily. Sam fisted his hand in his brother's short locks as the older male bobbed his head over his groin, sucking and tonging the hard length. Dean's talented tongue stroked and teased the piercings, heightening Sam's pleasure. Sam knew how much Dean loved them. How the added to the sensation as Sam's cock filled him.

Sam felt the lust coil deeply as he neared his climax and he yanked Dean's head away. He pushed Dean back to rest on his crossed arms and he stepped out of his jeans. Sam knelt between Dean's eagerly spread thighs and he reached above his head and gripped the chain. He watched Dean's cock bounce in anticipation as he lifted his brother's right leg and circled the chain around his thigh and secured it. The chain held the older man spread open and lustful before him. Sam wished he could take a picture, but other things burned at the forefront of his mind. Sam fingered his brother more, ensuring he was still loosened and ready before he coated his own cock with lube.

He bent himself over his brother and ground his hips into Dean's and caused the older man to moan low. The slick piercings on his dick rubbed firmly into Dean's. "Tell me what you want, Slut. I want to hear it come from those cock sucking lips."

Dean rocked up into Sam, both their hips canted into one another, "Please Sir, fuck me hard. I want to feel your dick fill me up!" He whimpered as Sam's hips lifted. Sam pushed into his needy older brother slowly, each of the barbells snapping over the tight ring of muscle within that never failed to cause Dean to melt. The burn faded as Sam held himself within. The older man shifted, trying to gain friction and Sam withdrew, then he snapped his hips forward brutally.

Dean barked out a moan, which urged Sam to repeat the movement several times over as a savage pace was set. The younger Winchester pounded into his brother's tight slick hole over and over bringing Dean closer and closer to the edge. Sam felt his balls tighten up and he knew he was not far behind. He bent low over his brother and closed his mouth over Dean's as their lips slanted and tongues fought hungrily for dominance. Sam felt the sting of Dean's teeth as they sliced open his lip, but he pressed on. "Come for me big brother," he ordered and popped the cock ring free from the purple dick that throbbed wildly.

Dean tossed back his head , his back arching as Sam's cock pounded into his prostate, causing the older man to explode, thick jets of come pouring from his untouched cock splashing against both hunter's stomachs and chests. "Sammy!" He yelled, his eyes clamped shut as Sam followed him into climax, and filled his tight hole with is hot come. The younger man moaned his release as wave after wave of pleasure poured over him, his brother's name slipped from his lips before he leaned heavily on top of Dean.

Sam relaxed and they both came down from their high. He reached behind Dean's back and pulled the panic release clips, freeing his arms. He didn't move away or say a word as Dean's arms though cooler than normal from the reduced circulation, seemed to move fine as they wrapped around his ribcage and clung to his back in a feeble embrace. Sam pressed his lips to the hollow below Dean's ear and the corded muscle of his neck as his brother clung to him. Soft sobs wracked Dean's frame as he finally broke. Dean finally released control.

~oOo~

Sam didn't comment or make any moves other than to release his brother's leg from the chain and pull Dean tighter against his body. He seemed to know that Dean needed this release, and was glad that he came to him to find it. He felt Sam drop several soft kisses on his neck and against his head. It only seemed to make the older man sob harder as his blunt nails scrabbled against the sweat slick skin. Sam ignored the sting as the sweat burned the scrapes that Dean knew would be left in his wake, in favor of being there for his brother.

"God... Sammy. I cant take anymore..." Dean murmured through hiccuped tears. Sam's only response was to plant another kiss. "What are we gonna do, Sammy? We don't have anyone left. It's just you and me now that those bastards got Bobby..." This statement seemed to make Dean break into a fresh round of sobs.

This warranted a response, "I am not sure De... But we will figure it out just as we always have. I am not leaving you behind and we will fight this together... Whether we win, or lose, I will be with you. I love you De..." Sam tightened his arms around his brother, the tears leaking from his eyes fell hotly on Dean's bare shoulder. Dean's own tears fell at the memory of their lost father figure and the impending future for them both.

"I love you too, Sammy," Dean whispered against his brothers shoulder. He couldn't tell Sam that he had lost all his hope of surviving without Bobby. All they had left of the man was a ball-cap with a bullet hole through it and a set of numbers that Bobby scribbled on Sam's hand. The fate of human-kind was in a tail-spin and it was taking Sam and Dean with it. All Dean could do was cling to his brother and pray that his second descent into Hell was painless.

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><p><strong><em>Thanks for Reading! Reviews are appreciated, not required!<em>**


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